Anwir's blade cut deep into the demon's chest, ice and mana crackling down the length of the wound. The creature shrieked and thrashed wildly, and in one last life and death struggle, it struck. Anwir was launched across the ballroom. He slammed into a crumpled table, sharp pain jolting through his side as his vision folded momentarily.
As Anwir was trying to move, instinctively he looked upward-and to his shock, in the moonlit gallery above, stood Duke Valen Rosenthal. For a brief moment, their eyes connected. Valen's face was blank, yet the way he stood was enough to throw a heavy burden of tension on his shoulders.
'Damn. He saw it. There's no way he missed me using Position Swap…'
Anwir's thoughts sprinted, his heart was pounding. 'The original Anwir never had that skill-not at this level at least, as it unlocked much later in the future, and Valen's no fool. If he suspects I'm hiding anything, he'll kill me himself. That's just the kind of man he is. I can't afford to slip up again-not with him watching.'
Below, the demon dissolved into ash, defeated at last. But as Anwir caught his breath, the weight of Valen's gaze settled over him like a blade pressed against his throat. A silent warning that surviving the ballroom's chaos was only the first of many trials to come.
Valen's gaze lingered on Anwir as the butler slumped against Selene, blood staining his uniform. The spatial magic he'd was not just rare. It was something that needed talent, a lot of it as it was one of the most unstable magic elements.
Valen remembered his daughter's icy composure, her lack of surprise at Anwir's sudden prowess, told him everything.
'So. Selvaria kept this card hidden. From me. From her siblings.' Valen's lips turned into a small grin, and a flicker of cold approval could be seen in his eyes as he gazed at Selvaria. 'Clever girl. Even I didn't foresee this. Even though she still has a soft heart, at least she has eye for finding talent.'
The Rosenthal household, just like other dark families, was a nest of vipers, and Selvaria had learned early to hoard secrets to safeguard her life within the family. But this… this was a masterstroke. A butler with spatial magic, loyal to the point of risking his life for his mistress? A true weapon as a servant. Valen's fingers flexed, mana humming beneath his skin. 'What else has she concealed from he dear father?'
Across the ravaged ballroom, Kael Veyron watched Anwir with narrowed eyes, his grip tightening on his sword. Valen noted the boy's nervousness 'An instinctive rivalry. Good. Let him worry. Let them all gaze at the power of Rosethal's.'
Reinhardt stepped beside him, arms crossed, voice low. "That butler of yours is quite good no he is very good. Spatial manipulation isn't taught in servant quarters right."
Valen's reply was stoic as usual without any warmth. "No. It isn't."
Reinhardt's gaze sharpened as he looked at VAlen and he knew it just by looking at his eyes. "You didn't know."
"Does it matter?" Valen's tone was cold. "He bled for her. That's loyalty no amount of training can forge."
"Or desperation." Reinhardt's eyes flicked to Aurianne, who was helping a wounded noble to their feet. "Men do reckless things when forced into a corner."
"Reckless?" Valen's smile was delicate. "That 'recklessness' just saved my heir. How many of your knights would do the same? And even if you have that same loyalty, do they have his potential."
Reinhardt's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it. Below, Aurianne gave orders, her guards forming a shield wall around the injured. Pride as a holy family liniage could be seen in his posture as he said. "Loyalty without control is a blade without a hilt. It cuts the wielder as easily as the foe."
Valen's gaze returned to Anwir, who was now limping toward Selvaria, Selene scolding him all the while. 'But what a blade it is,' he thought. Spatial magic was volatile, unpredictable Anwir had wielded it with the precision of a man who'd trained for years. Or someone… gifted.
'Perhaps,' Valen mused, 'it's time to test this weapon's edge.'
"You're not thinking about training him right," Reinhardt said, reading the shift in Valen's stance.
"All tools have uses. Even broken ones and also these dangerous ones, you just need to know how to either polish them or to bend them to your will chained."
"And if he breaks the chains.? If that magic turns on her?"
Valen's eyes glinted, crimson bore into blue. "Then I'll end him myself."
The unspoken threat hung between them, sharp as a naked blade. Reinhardt shook his head, turning away. "You see loyalty as a tool or item. One day, that will cost you."
"And you see it as a virtue." Valen's smile didn't reach his eyes. "How many of your 'virtuous' knights survived the night?"
Below, Marius Viridiel stumbled into view, still trembling, still useless. Reinhardt's silence was answer enough.
As the Dukes withdrew, Valen cast one last glance at Anwir. The butler met his gaze, defiance and fear warring in his eyes.
'Interesting,' Valen thought. 'Run, little rabbit. Let's see how far you get before I catch you.'
The game had shifted. And for the first time in decades, Valen Rosenthal felt the charge of the unknown he felt something he was interested in after so many years.
______________
Near Kael and Lira, suddenly, a demon barged between the two, while throwing his hands at Lira.
The demon's claws clenched Lira's arm, its deformed teeth flashing as it dragged her toward the fizzing portal. She screamed-a scream so raw and full of heart-stopping terror that it shattered the ballroom's brink of chaos-and Kael's world narrowed down to that instant.
"LIRA!"
He charged forward, sword high and ready, but the demon easily swatted him aside. Kael collided with a pillar, a couple of ribs cracking, everything blurring. The portal hummed persistently behind the demon, and the dark void of the portal swirled with corrupted mana. Lira was still fighting, ripping at the demon's hold with her fingers, but the demon just laughed with a low and mocking sound.
"Pathetic," it hissed. "Little girl no one is coming to save you I already deltwith your knight." He said, pointing to Kael.
At that moment, something in Kael snapped.
Heat erupted in his chest with a searing, golden light that spilled from his pores all over his body, his eyes, his blade. The air itself trembled as aura-raw, untamed, and brilliant-coalesced around him.
"Let. Her. GO."
The words weren't his—they were born of something deeper. A command from the heart, raw and absolute, that surged forth on its own and fed the flames of his fury. The aura rushed forth like a shockwave of brilliance that split the ballroom. The demon screamed as its body melted away to nothing, the portal uniform behind it splintering like glass.
Kael's sword came down in an arc of blazing gold. The blade didn't just cut the demon-it severed the gate binding the portal to the mortal realm. The rift imploded with a deafening crack, sucking the demon's ashes into the void before snapping shut.
Silence.
Then Kael collapsed, the aura snuffing out as suddenly as it had ignited. His body lay limp, steam rising from his scorched skin, every muscle spent.
Lira scrambled to his side, tears streaking her face. "Kael! Kael, wake up-!"
Across the hall, Valen and Reinhardt stood frozen. Valen's normally impassive face betrayed a flicker of genuine shock. 'Aura. At his age? Even a spark more from his body should've killed him.' His mind raced. 'The portal… he didn't just banish the demon. He damaged the realm's fabric. How?'
Reinhardt's holy sigils flared unbidden, his voice barely a whisper. "The Golden Aura… It's going to be interesting."
Aurianne stared, her sword half-lowered. "He… he just…used aura"
Selvaria's ice faltered, her red eyes wide. Even Anwir, bleeding and battered, managed a hoarse laugh. "Well. That's one way to make an entrance."